Breaching the Wall
by Dicere
Summary: There are some rules which should not be broken. But in the darkest time, one rule-abiding Scottish witch is willing to try...


Breaching the Wall

(For Datsue, otherwise known as KittysPhoenix; the fandom is not yet played out, I hope…)

It was foggy – as foggy as it could only get on the grounds of Hogwarts, the mist rising thick and dank from the lake. The cold air was still, and in this hour before the sun rose the silence was absolute. It seemed as though she walked through an endless cloud; and in all the universe there was nothing and no-one else…

Minerva McGonagall shook her head briskly as though to dislodge the sombre thought. But it lingered, persistent, even as she made her way carefully to the place she had marked only a few days before, when she had finally determined on her mad, impossible scheme.

Destination reached, she took out her wand and began moving it carefully as the intricate words of the desperate spell came from her mouth in measured tones.

But just as the last word trembled on her lips she felt his familiar presence behind her. With a sudden wry smile she lowered her wand; but the spell lingered in the air, awaiting completion.

"This isn't wise, Minerva," said his gentle voice.

She didn't look behind her. "I should have known you'd sense it and come, Albus."

And then he was there, at her shoulder, and she dared to look at his face.

Wise eyes looked into her own, with no trace of their trademark twinkle. "Reaching past the wall is forbidden. Made so with good reason, as you well know."

"True," she conceded, "but a spell was developed to breach it – if one has a great need to do so. And I do."

He frowned. "What is this great need of yours, Professor McGonagall? Voldemort is dead, and our world is finally at peace. What can possibly drive you to such an act as this?"

Minerva bit her lip. The words were hard to say, even though they had become a constant refrain in her mind over the last few months. "Because… because I cannot reach them, Albus."

She waited for a response, some sign of understanding – but met only silence, and a mild, enquiring gaze. Blast the man – she knew of old how he could use a silence like a scalpel.

Goaded, she continued painfully. "I look into their faces every day, Albus – and I see only pain, and the memory of fear. They are only children, all of them; yet they've fought already against the Dark, they've seen blood, been hurt themselves, faced death… They are only children, and they should be children still; but they are not, and they cry themselves to sleep in the night… and I can't reach them, I can't heal them, I am not who they need. I need to give them what they need, who they need…" Minerva drew in a ragged breath. "Or – or I've failed them," she finished softly.

He sighed quietly. "I understand your struggle, Minerva. But it isn't sufficient for what you have planned with this spell." His voice became oddly hesitant. "Are the children… your only reason?"

And there, right on target, was that damnable silence again, a bottomless pit begging to be filled.

For a long moment she wavered on its brink, terrified; then a single word dropped from her lips and she began the inexorable fall.

"Because…"

It was so hard, after so many years, to say it in the face of his patient gaze.

"Because I –"

But if not now, she asked herself suddenly, then when?

"Because," a deep breath, "I miss you, Albus. I need you." And despite her resolve, despite her vaunted courage, the last phrase came out of her in a voice no louder than a whisper.

"Was that so hard to say?"

How dare he sound so horribly cheerful! She glared up at him in silent outrage.

He chuckled. "I miss you too, you know." But his eyes were serious, and she had to press her hand to her throat to still the sudden flutter.

They stared at each other then, with all the words so long unsaid there in that moment when all their barriers had come down. The sunrise trembled on the unseen horizon. The fog around them brightened into light.

"I cannot allow you to do this, Minerva."

She choked back a cry. His face had become almost transparent; the vivid auburn hair only a dim shade of colour in the blinding white.

"You must not sacrifice your life to bring me back, Minerva. You are the one our children need. You can, and will, guide them through this time of sorrow. And one day…"

She could barely make him out now, and could not stop her arms from reaching fruitlessly into the mist. Yet his voice, soft and strong and young, could still be heard in her mind, even as he faded completely in the harsh morning light.

_…we will be together once more, my Minerva…_

And he was gone, finally and completely; because the spell to bring him back from the dead could only be performed once, this night past, and now she would be without him, every day of her life to come.

Minerva McGonagall tucked her wand back into her belt, blew her nose in a businesslike manner, and began the long walk back to the castle and her children. But before she left the graveyard, where his marble headstone glimmered brightly through the dissipating mists, she whispered two sentences, hoping that somehow he would hear them.

"Let it be soon, Albus. Please God, let it be soon."


End file.
